


Scarred

by snowjagran



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician)
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Drama & Romance, F/M, Mental Instability, Sad, Scratching, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-06 05:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 12,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5404526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowjagran/pseuds/snowjagran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We kill flowers because we think they are beautiful. We kill ourselves because we think we are not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The tour bus drove along the highway. Ed Sheeran sat near the front on the right side, gazing out the window.  
"'Tcha looking at, Ed?" Stuart asked him. Ed shrugged.  
"Nothing. I just like Florida, s'all." He said. Suddenly he saw something in the road in front of them on the side of the road. It was a girl, with curly black hair and pale skin. Ed's stomach dropped as she dropped her backpack and stepped into the middle of the road right in front of them. "Stop!" He shouted. The driver slammed on the brakes and Stuart, who had been standing in the aisle, tumbled to the ground. Ed sprang out of his seat and jumped over Stuart to get out the door, which the driver had opened. He sprinted to the girl, who shrunk away from him as he came closer. "What the fuck was that?!" He screamed at her. "What the hell were you trying to do, girl?! We could have fucking killed you!" He stopped and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, the girl had grabbed her bag and was walking down the side of the highway. He ran after her. "Listen, sweetheart, I can't leave you here, okay? Is there someone I can call for you?" He asked. The girl shook her head. Stuart had come out of the bus now. So had Jamie. They both watched as Ed reached out and grabbed the girl's arm. She spun around and tried to shake him off.  
"Please don't touch me." She whispered. Ed's heart stopped beating. He could see bags under her eyes, which were hazel green, and deep scars on both her cheeks. Her skin was lovely pale ivory, her hair was wild and black. Ed let go of her arm and held up his hands.  
"Okay, I'm not touching you." He said. The girl adjusted the sleeves of her jacket, which was overlarge and hung loosely on her shoulders. "Just-just please tell me what I can do for you." He said. The girl shook her head. Ed sighed. "Okay, then come with me. I can't leave you out here on the side of the road like this." The girl shook her head frantically.  
"No." She said. Ed shook his head.  
"That's not a question." He said. The girl's lower lip trembled.  
"Please just let me go." She whispered. Ed shook his head.  
"I'm sorry, love, I can't do that." He said. The girl slowly walked toward the bus, tears welling in her eyes. Ed walked behind her. As she climbed in, Stuart stopped Ed.  
"What are we going to do with her?" He asked. Ed shrugged.  
"I don't know, but we can't leave her here." He said, and got into the bus. Stuart sighed and shrugged at Jamie before they both climbed in after him.


	2. Chapter 2

Ed and the girl sat in silence for a long time. Ed had made her sit next to him after she made a wild break for the door. She had calmed down since then and stared out the window with dead eyes. Ed felt sorry for her. She looked so sad that it wrenched his heart. He felt terrible for grabbing her and screaming.  
"Listen, sweetheart, I'm sorry for yelling at you, 'kay? Guess I was just scared." Ed said.  
Silence.  
"What's your name, love?" Ed asked quietly. The girl shrugged.  
"Does it matter?" She asked.  
"'Course it does. It matters to me." Ed said.  
"My name's Layla." She replied, without turning around. Ed nodded.  
"Like the Eric Clapton song, right?" He asked. Layla nodded.  
"Yeah. Not a whole lot of people know that." She said. There was a pause.  
"My name's Ed." Ed said. Layla turned.  
"You honestly thought I didn't know that?" She asked him. He shrugged.  
"You never know." He said. Layla almost turned away before asking, "So what are you going to do with me?" Ed shrugged.  
"Take you to a shelter, I guess." He said. Layla shook her head.  
"There is absolutely no way in hell I'm going to another shelter." She said determinedly. Ed looked at her.  
"What kind of shelter have you been to?" He asked. Layla shrugged.  
"Homeless, runaway, battered women's. You name it." She said. Ed stared.  
"Just how old are you, exactly?" He asked. Layla looked out the window, contemplating the best way she could put the answer, which was bluntly.  
"Fifteen." She said. Ed started in surprise. Fifteen?, he thought. She looked at least twenty.  
"Fifteen?! Jesus Christ, what the hell were you doing out on the highway by yourself?" He asked. Layla shrugged.  
"Looking for something big enough and fast enough to kill me." She said calmly. Ed shook his head in disbelief.  
"Why didn't anyone notice you were gone?" He asked. Layla didn't answer. "Did you run away from home?" Ed asked quietly. Layla looked at him and hesitated a moment before nodding. Ed sighed. "Can you tell me why?" He asked. Layla shook her head.  
"I don't like to talk about it." She said. Ed nodded in understanding.  
"That's okay. Do you have any family?" He asked. Layla snorted.  
"None that would take me." She answered. Ed looked in her hazel green eyes, eyes so sad he almost flinched, and thought better than to ask her why.


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived at Ed's hotel in Miami past one o'clock in the morning, but there was a queue of girls waiting at the front entrance. Layla started to shake. Ed looked at her with concern etched into his features.  
"What's wrong. love?" He asked. Layla clutched her backpack to herself and started to scratch her face nervously.  
"I don't like crowds." She whispered. Ed could see angry red marks where her long fingernails had scratched her cheeks. His concern deepened as he saw that she was scratching open old wounds and her face was bleeding.  
"Listen love, we're not going anywhere near them, okay? We can go in the back way and just have Stu sign us in, but I need you to stop scratching your face, okay? Please." He said. Layla shook her head and the scratching became more violent. Ed started to panic as he saw the blood under Layla's fingernails and on her hands. "Okay, Layla, I'm sorry, but I have to do this." Ed said, before gently grabbing Layla's wrists and holding them firmly. Layla screamed and began to thrash wildly around, kicking Ed wherever she could reach, including between his legs. Ed grunted but held her arms down determinedly.  
"Stuart! Jamie! Little help, please!" He shouted over Layla's screams. The two men in question hopped onto the bus and rushed over to help Ed. Stuart held her legs together and with Ed's help they moved her to the center aisle. Layla was sobbing through her screams now, tears mixing with the blood on her face. Jamie took her head into his lap and began to brush her wild hair away from her face. His fingertips gently brushed the wounds on her face.  
"Shhh, shhh. It's okay. Hush, baby girl." He murmured to her gently. Layla shook her head.  
"M-make them let go of me." She sobbed. Jamie looked up at Ed and Stuart.  
"Promise you won't scratch your face if we do?" Ed asked. Layla nodded, still sobbing. "Okay, love, we're going to let you go now." Ed whispered to her, before he nodded to Stuart. They both slowly removed their hands and Layla curled into the fetal position and wrapped her arms around herself. Jamie stood, looking helplessly from Ed to Stuart and back again. Stuart just shook his head.  
"Can you just go and sort this business out with the hotel?" Ed asked. Stu nodded.  
"Jamie, come with me." Stu said. Jamie carefully stepped around Layla and stepped off the bus with Stuart. Ed crawled up and sat next to Layla.  
"It's alright, love." He whispered. Layla nodded. Ed gazed down at her blood-and-tear-stained face. "You know I'll never hurt you, right? And neither would Stu or Jamie, okay? I'd have to kill them of they did." He said quietly. Layla looked up at him, her eyes rimmed with red.  
"It's not that I think you'd hurt me, but...I've been hurt before-and-and I have flashbacks." She murmured as she sat up. Ed nodded. He felt depressed, hearing that from a fifteen-year-old girl, or any girl. No one deserved that.  
"Listen to me, okay? You don't have to worry about that anymore, got it? No one's going to hurt you anymore. I won't let it happen." He said, just as Stuart boarded the bus again.  
"Someone's going round back to open the door for you, so you can get back there." He said. Ed looked at Layla.  
"You ready?" He asked. Layla took a shaky breath and nodded. Ed smiled at her.  
"Then let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

"Shh, it's okay." Ed whispered once he got Layla into the bedroom. She was still a shaking mess, with red-rimmed eyes and her arms wrapped around herself. She collapsed onto one of the beds and rocked back and forth. Ed sat on the ground in front of her. "Look at me, love." He said quietly. Layla shook her head. Ed sighed. "Please, sweetheart." He whispered. Layla hesitated before meeting his ice blue eyes. He studied her face. It was pale and pointed. High cheekbones, marred with cuts and scars. Perfect strawberry lips, slightly parted as she took a shaky breath. Sad eyes, the color of which was indiscernible. Thick, dark eyelashes, tipped with gold. "You don't have to cry." Ed whispered. Layla looked away.  
"Not my fault." She mumbled. Ed looked down at her hands. Blood had dried onto them and caked under her fingernails. He could see the wetness of it against the black of her hoodie sleeves. The hoodie was dirty and had small tears in it, and was far too big for her.  
"Maybe you should take this jacket off." Ed said quietly. Layla jerked her head from side to side, not so much a shake as a seizure. Ed held up his hands. "I just want to get it washed, okay?" He said. Layla took a breath and nodded, slowly pulling the jacket over her head. Too late, Ed realized she only had on a bra beneath it. Her ribs showed through the skin of her abdomen, and deep, deep scars were etched into the pale flesh. Some were purple, some were pink, some were white, but the worst were the ones that were still angry and red. These were covered in scabs and glared out at him as if they were laughing. Quickly he averted his gaze to her arms. They were in worse shape than the rest of her.   
He could see gashes and trenches in her forearms, some travelling around in almost perfect circles. The muscles of her biceps were cut and torn, and there were cuts all over her chest and collarbone.   
Ed couldn't help but stare until his eyes met Layla's.   
She wasn't looking at him, but sat with her eyes closed and her bottom lip bitten, anticipating rough hands and callous touches.  
Instead, she heard this: "Can I hug you?"  
The voice was almost pleading, and didn't seem to come from Ed at all. But it was him, and though Layla hesitated so long he thought she was going to refuse, she got on the ground and they wrapped their arms around each other. As she stretched, some of the newer scabs broke open and bled, leaving small red patterns on Ed's shirt. Ed didn't care. He held Layla close to him as if she was an old friend, and from her kneeling position she fell onto his lap. In spite of herself, she began to cry, but Ed held her against his chest and rubbed her back. His thumbs swept the bony ridges of her vertebrae, and she might have laughed if she wasn't sobbing. Ed gently lifted her onto the bed and let her lay halfway on top of him, holding her tightly until all her tears were gone.


	5. Chapter 5

When Layla woke the next morning, she immediately realized she was halfway undressed. She pulled the duvet up to her neck and began to hyperventilate. Old memories came flooding back. Memories of ugly, mean faces and aching between her legs. She began to sob, choking on her own breath as she tried to remember what had happened. In the bathroom, Ed heard her crying and burst into the room. He rushed over to the bed, but Layla shook her head violently and quickly jumped out of the other side of the bed, struggling to hide anything that was exposed. Ed held up his hands (he seemed to be doing a lot of that these days.)  
"Hey, hey. What's wrong, love?" He asked quietly. He always kept his voice quiet around her, like she was a small child in need of comfort. Layla jerked her head as if she was having a seizure and tightened her arms around herself.  
"What-what did you do to me?" She stuttered. Ed's brows knit in confusion.  
"I didn't do anything to you, Layla." He said. "I wanted to wash your jacket, so you took it off. And...And you showed me your scars." He whispered. Layla whimpered.  
"Liar." She whispered as Ed came around the bed. She backed up against the wall.  
"I'm not lying, Layla." Ed whispered back. "You showed me."  
"No! I don't show anyone my scars! I-I never have!" She shouted in his face. Ed moved so he was right in front of her. Layla held up her hands to block her face, but the blow she was expecting never came. Instead, gentle hands took hers and guided them away from her eyes so she could see Ed in front of her. He looked down at her as if asking for permission before gently pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her. Although she tensed, his hands were more gentle than any others she had ever known.  
"Remember what I said, Layla." He whispered. "No one here will ever hurt you. I'll never hurt you."  
After that, there was only the sound of her ragged breathing.  
Ed rubbed her bare back, feeling the bony ridges of her spine against his fingers, her silky, unmarked skin against his hands. He liked this feeling, this feeling that she needed him. He wanted to feel that more, but most importantly he wanted this scarred, unhappy girl to feel loved.


	6. Chapter 6

"So, what kind of food do you like?" Ed asked as they waited for the elevator to bring itself down to the first floor. Layla shrugged.  
"Anything, I guess." She mumbled. Ed raised a blond eyebrow.  
"Come on, love, there has to be something." He said. Layla looked thoughtful for a moment, an expression which Ed thought suited her. She looked up at the ceiling, pupils blown wide even though the lights were cold and bright. Her eyebrows came together a bit, forming the slightest of creases between them. She bit her bottom lip, and Ed noticed that there was a small gap between her front teeth.  
"Sushi." She finally said. Ed chuckled, and she frowned. "What?" She asked. Ed shook his head.  
"Nothing. It-it's just that that's my favorite, too." He said. Layla nodded.  
"Really." She said absentmindedly. When they reached the first floor, Ed exited first to see if there were any crowds outside. Nothing special, a few girls from the night before, but it was Miami, so there were lots of people out on the sidewalk. It concerned Ed a little, as he was wondering how Layla would react, but there was no helping it. He led her across the lobby and ushered her out the doors.   
They almost made it across the sidewalk before the first flash froze Layla in her tracks.  
A small  _click_  accompanied it, and in an instant Layla was no longer in Miami.  
_"That's right, baby, just like that." It was a man's voice with a Southern drawl to it. She couldn't remember his name now. She thought it was Garrett, or maybe Barrett. She heard the shutter of the cameras. There were three of them, controlled with a remote, placed at strategic angles. She lifted her knee a bit higher, showing a bit more of her pale thigh beneath the plaid of the tiny skirt the photographer had made her wear. She was wearing a tight button-down blouse that showed her cleavage, expertly tied above her belly-button so that the cameras could capture the light in the crystal stud that pierced it. Her calves were covered in white socks that extended to her knees, her feet were encased in black Mary-Janes. Her fingers were locked and her arms extended down to her hips. She looked up at the ceiling through her eyelashes, contact lenses turning her eyes a cheap sky blue. Her lips were plumped-up in a fake pout, painted the dark pink of the inside of a strawberry. Her hair had been straightened and pulled back into pigtails, with red bows on the hair elastics to match her skirt._  
_"Good, baby, now take the top off." The Garrett-maybe-Barrett said. Layla didn't hesitate to undo the loose knot in which her shirt had been tied. She wore nothing underneath it, so her breasts were bare. They were barely breasts at all, back then. Just tiny things, really. The photographer wolf-whistled. "Perfect." He said as he clicked the button on his remote twice. "Now cross you arms over yourself, like this." Layla placed her hands on her shoulders, effectively covering her pale chest. She flipped her pigtail over her shoulder and turned slightly to the side so that the middle camera could catch the pretty smile she threw over her shoulder. She moved one arm so she could blow a kiss at the camera, and the photographer laughed and clapped._  
 _Even at thirteen, Layla knew how to make men happy._


	7. Chapter 7

"Layla! Layla! Come on, Layla! Wake up!" It was Ed's voice that brought her out of her trance. They were in the back of the cab now. Ed must have picked her up and placed her inside, because she was laying with her head on his lap. A concerned look was on Ed's face, and Layla studied it. His translucent eyebrows were bunched together, with deep creases in between. His ice-blue eyes looked worrisome. His hair was at all angles, the copper strands either hanging low on his forehead or sticking up so that they nearly grazed the roof. He was biting the inside of his lip, and the tiny white scar at the corner of his mouth stood out against the pale of his skin. "You alright, love?" He asked worriedly, smoothing her hair behind her ears. Layla shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. Ed saw her lip tremble and pulled her onto his lap as she started to sob. "It's okay, love." He whispered in her ear. She pressed herself into his chest, and between her ragged sobs she inhaled the smell of Old Spice and citrus. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt, but he didn't care much. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and his thumbs made gentle circles on her arm and back. She shuddered at the gentle touch, and wiped away the tears with the back of her wrist. Ed looked down at her, through a stray curl that had fallen into her face. "Let's talk about it, love." He said gently as he brushed it away. Layla shook her head.  
"I don't like to think about it." She whispered. Ed frowned.  
"Why'd you just freeze like that?" He asked. Layla paused for a moment.  
"Cameras." She whispered, tears welling in her eyes again. As they rolled down her cheeks, Ed wiped them away with his thumb.  
"Hey, we don't have to talk about it, 'kay? We'll just go and get some sushi and never talk about it again, alright?" He asked. Layla nodded, and Ed knocked on the partition between them and the driver. "Could you find us a place for sushi, please?" He asked. The driver smiled and nodded. He was a bespectacled old man with a shock of white hair. In five minutes they were parked outside a small shop that advertised sushi on a sign outside. Ed turned to Layla. "You think you can go in?" He asked. Layla took a breath and nodded. Ed smiled. "Alright." Ed opened the car door for her and they quickly slipped inside the door to the shop.


	8. Chapter 8

The shop smelled of sticky rice and fish, but not in a bad way. Layla could smell wasabi and soy sauce wafting up her nostrils, burning a little when they were right in front of the counter. Ed looked down and to the side at her.  
"What do you want?" He asked. Layla shrugged.  
"Just pick something for me." She answered. Ed nodded and leaned over the counter to speak to the clerk at the register. She was petite and Asian, with tiny hands and hair the same color as Layla's. She nodded as Ed spoke to her, and held up one finger in a "wait a minute" gesture. Ed turned back to Layla.  
"You can sit down. It'll be a minute." He said. Layla hesitated. "It's alright, I'll be right there." He assured her. Layla went and sat at a booth. After a few minutes, Ed came over with a tray full of sushi. All her favorite kinds were there: sake nigri and kappa maki, toro and amaebi, maguro nigri, kani nigri and California rolls. Layla eyed it hungrily. Ed waited. Layla didn't move. "You can eat it, you know." He said in a stage whisper through his smile. Layla scooted closer to the table and began to eat. She ate the sake nigri first. Salmon had always been her favorite, and she chewed it slowly. But after a moment, the aching in her belly grew more pronounced, and she began to shovel the food in. There were five of every kind of sushi, and she had them all eaten in five minutes while Ed gazed at her. He saw the way she ate with one hand while holding her hair back with the other, the way she licked the soy sauce off her fingers after she finished. He smiled, because this was the first time he had seen someone look so happy. Layla began to hiccup, and Ed laughed. "Here, let me get you something to drink." He said as he stood. He went up to the counter and came back with a can of cold Dr. Pepper, which Layla guzzled. Ed chortled as fizz came out her nose. Layla furiously wiped it away. "When was the last time you ate?" Ed asked. Layla shrugged.  
"A week ago, maybe." She mumbled. Ed was suddenly serious.  
"A week ago?" He asked. Layla nodded. Ed shook his head.  
"Well, at least you're here now. I promise you'll never starve while you're with me." He said. Layla nodded. Ed tilted his head. "Come on, smile." He said. Layla shook her head. Ed reached across the table and tilted her chin up with his thumb and forefinger. "Smile." He whispered. Layla hesitated before forcing a pained smile onto her face. Ed's grin covered his. "It'll work." He said. Layla drew back from his hand and Ed, as if remembering something, quickly pulled it back. "We should probably get back to the hotel now." He said. Layla nodded, and the moment in which Layla had been happy was lost.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time they got back to the hotel it was noon, and Ed had to begin practicing for his show later that evening. One of the buses came to pick up Ed and Jamie to take them to the venue. Ed turned to Layla after Stuart arrived to their room to tell them the bus was ready.  
"D'you want to come?" He asked. Layla looked surprised.  
"You want me to come?" She asked. Ed smiled.  
"Yeah, why not?" He said, and Layla shrugged her shoulders.  
When they got to the bus, a young woman with tanned skin and sleek brown hair ran up to them and smiled, showing every one of her perfect white teeth.  
"Hi, I'm Christina Perri! You must be Layla! Oh, my God, I love your hair! It's so nice to meet you!" She said, throwing her arms around Layla, who jumped and ran into the bus as soon as Christina let go. Christina turned to Ed with a confused expression on her face. "Did I say something wrong?" She asked. Ed shook his head.  
"She doesn't like to be touched much." He said quietly, giving Christina a quick pat on the shoulder before hopping onto the bus and sitting down next to Layla, who was across the aisle from Jamie. "Sorry, Layla, she didn't know." Ed said to her. Layla nodded, but didn't say anything. Ed leaned over so he could see her face. She stared at the window toward the pavement, and Ed couldn't see any expression on her face. He gently placed his hand over hers and held it when she tried to pull back. She looked at him frightenedly, but he wouldn't let go. "Remember what I told you?" He asked gently. Layla kept trying to pull her hand back and didn't answer. Ed held her hand gently but firmly in her lap. "No one's going to hurt you, Layla." He whispered in her ear. Layla took a moment to relax, but when she did he could have sworn his heart stopped beating.  
Her hair fell over her shoulder, tangled and matted but still beautiful in itself.   
Her skin, for all its scars, glowed ivory and seemed perfect under the lights in the bus' ceiling.  
Her lips were still perfect strawberry pink, and Ed watched with rapt attention as they parted for her to draw a shaky breath.   
Her eyelashes fluttered closed for a moment before they slowly opened again to reveal her irises. Ed studied her eyes. He never could figure out what color they were, no matter how hard he tried. One second he thought they were the warm brown of dark chocolate. The next, he saw emerald green with sparks of gold.  
Layla took off her jacket in the heat, and he noticed freckles on the skin of her arms that was unmarred. Even her scars seemed pretty, now that he looked at them. All different colors of rose and lilac, some of them becoming cream-colored with age so that he could barely see them. None of them had ever been stitched together, so they healed as deep ridges in her skin that were tender to the touch.  
She wore a short-sleeved shirt, and Ed watched as she rubbed the cut, torn muscles of her biceps. None of them had been stitched, either, so she had no upper body strength whatsoever when it came to her arms.  
Her abdominal muscles, for that matter, were useless as well, because in a fit of self-loathing two years back she had taken a box-cutter and shredded them in a matter of minutes. Ed couldn't help but feel for her. It wasn't that it was disgust, exactly, but he felt a strong mix of confusion and anger, because to him, she was beautiful.  
He wondered how she could do this to herself. Decide to tear herself apart like this. It didn't compute in his brain that she could think of herself as anything less than perfect. To him, that's what she was. Perfectly delicate. Fragile and vulnerable, damaged and scarred. He thought every bit of her was beautiful in every way. And, though he didn't know it, that was how he came to fall in love with her.


	10. Chapter 10

Ed and Layla went straight to his dressing room with his guitar and loop pedal so he could practice. Layla sat in a chair and watched as he set up everything and began to play. She didn't like the first song, I'm A Mess. It was too loud and too fast for her. She preferred Lego House, with it's cute lyrics and mellow sounds. She blushed when he played Don't, because of the explicit lyrics, but she liked that one. Drunk was good in her opinion, and funny, too. She couldn't understand some parts of Take It Back, but she didn't care much for it anyway. As Ed played One, Layla began to hum along with him, and he smiled. But as for Bloodstream, she wrinkled her nose. Ed shrugged and kept playing. As Ed neared the chorus of Tenerife Sea, Layla quirked up one side of her mouth in a half-smile and rocked back and forth in time to the music. As Ed played Afire Love, she stared at him solemnly. She might have sung along with Runaway, if she had known the words. Thinking Out Loud didn't have much of an effect on her, as she had heard it a lot already. Photograph, to her surprise, made her want to kiss him. Give Me Love she had only heard once, and the way he played it made her want to throw her arms around him and hold him. I See Fire she didn't understand at all, as she hadn't seen The Hobbit movies, but she thought it was pretty all the same. You Need Me, I Don't Need You made her want to dance.  
But when Ed played The A Team, she froze as soon as the first chorus ended. Ed saw it happen. Her arms locked around herself and tears welled up in her eyes. Her strawberry lips parted for a shake breath before she choked out the first sob. He stopped playing, but it was too late. She had keeled out of the chair onto her side, her body racked with sobs. Ed undid the strap to his guitar and knelt on the ground next to her. She was too out of her mind to flinch away from his hands as they pulled her to him, one knee on either side of his lap. Layla wrapped her arms around his middle and cried into his shoulder. Ed rubbed her back and rocked her back and forth. He whispered to her that it would be okay, that he was sorry he had made her cry, that she was too pretty to cry anyway. Layla only stopped after ten minutes of this, and when her sobs tapered down to shaky breaths she pulled back and looked at him.  
She had seen lakes frozen with ice, and Texas skies covered in downy clouds. She had seen the ocean on all sides of Florida, from Vero Beach to Tampa Bay to Key West. Neither of them were as beautifully, perfectly blue as his eyes. The irises were surrounded by a thin circle of black, he pupils by a soft hazel. They gazed down at her.  
She had seen floats covered in roses and bushes cloaked in hydrangeas, and neither could rival the pink of his lips. They were plump and curved, almost like a girl's if she looked at them a certain way. He licked them as he thought of her face, just a few inches away from his.  
His nose flared a little as he inhaled the smell of her. She was like pine and apples and peaches rolled into one.  
His normally pale cheeks had flushed a pretty pink while he thought about her.  
His hands, calloused and rough from his guitar strings, still held her to him.  
His arms, colorfully inked and just a bit muscular from carrying equipment, tightened a little around her. They felt like a perfect fit around her tiny waist, holding her like that.  
It was Ed's turn to study her, then.  
Her eyes couldn't be matched by the darkest earth or the deepest evergreen, and the way they looked up at him, with just a hint of apprehension, made him want to touch her and hold her.  
The pale pink flowers on the blackberry bushes back home couldn't match the scars on her cheeks. Others may have seen them as flaws, but he thought they were nearly as beautiful as the rest of her.  
The blue-black of a crow's wings were nothing compared to the wild mane of her hair. It was silky and tangled, matted and smooth, all at the same time. Gently, so as not to frighten her, Ed held both sides of her face so that his fingers carded through the knotted strands behind her ears. He would have liked to have buried his face in it.  
The finest ivory wasn't as fine as her skin. It was smooth and soft, and even where Ed's hands rested on scars it felt like the skin of a baby doll.  
Her lips were like rosebuds. They parted a little as she breathed, and Ed wondered what it would be like to kiss them. Slowly, he brushed his thumb over them, and felt Layla shiver a little.  
Her neck was long and pale and unscarred. He could see the gentle outline of blue veins under the skin, and with his little finger felt her pulse as it raced. He wanted to press his lips there, to feel her blood rushing under them.  
Her hands, with their blood-caked fingernails, were almost as rough as his own, but that didn't take away from the excitement of having them pressed against his chest, where he was sure they could feel his heart thundering away. He wanted them to run through his hair, to clasp behind his neck, to cup the zipper of his jeans and undo his belt.  
Her arms, her pale arms with their trenches and gullies. He would have adored them even if they had had him in a death grip. He wanted to kiss them, from wrist to shoulder and back again. He wanted to rub them when they were cold and to feel them pressed to his chest in bed.  
Her legs, long and bone-thin. Layla's ripped skinny jeans left nothing to the imagination when it came to her legs. The calves were thin and Ed could have wrapped his hands around one of them. Little handfuls of thighs, pressing in on either of his. He wanted to run his hands along them, wanted to feel the place where they met under a table in a crowded restaurant, wanted to slip his hands between them and pull them apart while she laid on his bed.  
Her breasts, the cleavage showing the way she was sitting. They pressed against his chest as he held her to him. He imagined they were soft and round and white, with pert pink nipples. He wanted to feel them with his hands, to reach over her shoulder and squeeze them while she lay in bed, to bury his face in them.  
As he thought about this, he felt an erection form and squirmed a bit. He knew Layla felt it, too, because her eyes widened and she searched his face as if asking what she should do. He sat up a little straighter where he was against the wall, his fingers splayed against the small of her back in an effort to press her closer to him. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around his neck since it wasn't comfortable to have them pressed against his chest anymore. He inhaled sharply as she did this. One hand came up to cup her cheek, his eyes searching hers for permission before gently pulling her face to his. Layla closed her eyes as he kissed her, and after a moment of fear and wanting to pull away she carded her fingers through his hair and kissed back. His lips were soft, but he would have argued that hers were softer. She tasted like coffee, he tasted like mint and cigarettes. She absentmindedly moved her hips against his and his hands fell to rest on them as he 'mmph'ed into her mouth. His hands slid along to her bottom and squeezed, which made her hips jump. Ed moved his hands up and down her thighs slowly before moving them up to rest just under her shirt. He could feel the scars on her stomach, the places where the skin had twisted and raised because they hadn't healed quite right. She pressed herself closer to him. When they broke away, Ed looked away and to the floor as Layla quickly got up and left the room, feeling cold without her warmth against his chest.


	11. Chapter 11

Ed fretted and worried through the entire set, knowing he might have sent Layla into a flashback. Even the usual thrill of being on stage and having thousands of people singing along with him couldn't quell his anxiety. He worried even more when he went backstage after the encore and found Layla wasn't there. He started to feel threads of panic work their way through him. He rushed up to Stuart and started to bombard him with questions. Finally Stuart got him to calm down.  
"She said she wasn't feeling well. We took her back to the hotel. Christina's in the room with her so she can't hurt herself. I've been calling every fifteen minutes to check on her, and last time I called she was just fine."  
"Get someone to take me there." Ed demanded. He didn't care if the equipment wasn't ready to go. He had no see her now. Not in an hour, not in five minutes, but this minute, this very second. Stuart sighed and took his phone from his jeans pocket. After a few minutes of him talking to Ed's driver and Ed hopping impatiently from foot to foot in anticipation, Stuart hung up. "Just go out the way we came in, and they're waiting for you." Ed hurried out the door to the closed-of back street behind the arena and jumped in the car. He fidgeted the whole time and checked the screen of his phone every five seconds or so for messages from Christina, but none came. His anxiety was so bad that by the time he got back to the room he was ready to kick down the door. As it was, he burst in rather suddenly, and both Christina and Layla looked up as he entered. Christina was sitting on one bed, Layla on the other. Christina was watching Layla write in a spiral notebook that Ed recognized as his. They both stared at him, as he had been taking very deep breaths the whole elevator ride and was a bit red in the face.  
"H-how is she? Is she feeling better? Behaving herself?" He asked nervously. Christina smiled.  
"Yeah, she's fine. Just felt a little tired, said the sound of the fans screaming was bothering her. Stu asked me to bring her back here and sit with her till she calmed down a little, but when I asked her if she wanted to go back she said no. She just grabbed a blank notebook and started writing." Christina said. Ed breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she hadn't done anything to hurt herself, because he didn't think he would be able to handle her doing something like that because of him.  
"Thanks for your help, Chrissy. I appreciate it. You can go back to your room now, try to get some rest." He said. Christina nodded and waved at Layla before leaving, closing the door behind her. Layla gazed across the room at Ed, watching him watch her. His crystal blue eyes met hers before traveling from her face down her body, resting on the floor before coming to rest on the notebook in her lap. "What're you writing?" He asked. Layla flipped the notebook closed and cast her eyes down to the floor in embarrassment.  
"Can't tell you." She whispered.  
"Can I read it?" Ed asked. Layla shook her head.  
"Not till it's finished." She murmured. Ed sighed and sat on the ground in front of her. Layla didn't look at him, but she closed the notebook and reached back to place it on the other side of the bed. Ed sighed and took both her hands in his. Layla didn't flinch. "I just don't know what to do, Layla." He whispered. Layla rested her bloodstained fingertips in his silky hair.  
"That's okay." She said. "I haven't know what to do since I was twelve." She said plainly. Ed cracked a small smile, but it only lasted for a moment.  
"It's just that - you're so much younger than me, and I'm feeling things for you, and I don't want to hurt you because I get the feeling you've been hurt to much already but I don't know how I can't hurt you. And I really like you and now I've gone and messed everything up by kissing you, and I don't know if I made you think of something bad or good or what, and I kind of want to be your friend I kind of want to be something more, but you're only fifteen and you're so pretty and I just don't know what to do." He said, burying his face between her legs. Layla ran her fingers through his hair.  
"I've never been kissed before, you know." She whispered. Ed looked up at her in amazement.  
"You're not serious." He said. Layla gave him a half-smile.  
"I'm completely serious. I hadn't kissed a boy before you." She said, one hand coming down from his hair to cup his stubbly cheek. He leaned in to it, following the touch like a boy follows his mother. Layla gently rubbed her hand back and forth. Ed closed his eyes and let out a slow, shaky breath.  
"You're a good kisser, for your first time." He whispered. He opened his eyes in time to see Layla smile. A real smile, showing the gap between her teeth. Ed decided in that moment that he loved her. He loved everything about her. Her scars, her skin, her eyes, her hair. His thumbs rubbed circles on the backs of her hands, one of the only parts of her body he had seen that were unmarked by scars. Their palms and fingers were rough, but the skin on the back of them was soft. Ed raised one to his mouth and kissed it, looking up at her the whole time. He saw he gazing back down at him, saw that she trusted him. He didn't want to let go of this moment, when they were both just sitting there, and he was loving her, and she was accepting it, but he knew he would go crazy if he couldn't do more that kiss her hand. No, he'd go insane with longing. He wanted to do so many things to her that it was scary, even to him. Some of the things he was thinking of would have made his mother slap him. Layla patted the place on the bed next to her, and Ed sat down there. Layla ran her fingers up and down his arms, tracing some of the colorful lines. Ed shivered at the slight tickle of her fingertips. Her hands moved to his thighs, rubbing up and down where he was sitting cross-legged. Ed closed his eyes and let out a small 'mmph' as she gently placed one hand on the zipper of his jeans. His hand rested on top of hers, but he didn't pull it away. She rubbed back and forth slowly, smiling a little as Ed wiggled his hips to try and make her speed up. She took her hand away, and he opened his eyes as if to protest, but Layla was climbing on top of him, which made him feel better. He straightened his legs out and shifted so he was resting against the pillows. Layla smiled nervously down at him, watching his gaze travel up her body to her face. "You're beautiful." He whispered. Layla blushed, shades of pink and red covering her cheeks. Ed splayed his fingers on the small of her back, pulling her against him. She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath before leaning in and kissing him. This time there was no hesitation. Ed kissed her hard, tongue flicking against her lip, gently insisting that he let her in. He didn't take more of her control than he thought she was comfortable with, but at the same time implied that he wouldn't let her pull away if she tried. His erection prodded the space between her hips, making her rub them slowly back and forth. Ed's hands gripped her hips, pushing them down and moving the attention of his mouth to her neck, where he sucked and bit and kissed with such sweetness that a groan came from Layla's lips. Ed pulled away. He bit his lip as he though about what he wanted to say. "Can I take your clothes off?" He whispered. Layla nodded. She laid down, watching Ed hover over her as his eyes swept over her body. He was kneeling between her legs, anticipating what waited for him between them. His breaths were shaky. "Sit up a bit." He said. Layla did, and he slowly pulled her shirt up and over her head. He gazed at her breasts, her scars, her stomach. He gently pushed her shoulder back to make her lie down again, and unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. He gulped as he saw the elastic of a pair of black lace panties, his erection springing up harder. He hooked his fingers into both her jeans and panties and slowly dragged them down her legs. He saw scars, deeper than anywhere else on her body, as if ten or so people had attacked her with meat cleavers and razor blades. Ed bent down and kissed them, not caring that she was scarred, only that she was here and she was his. Layla inhaled a little sharply, and Ed looked up, concerned. "You alright?" He asked. Layla took a breath and nodded. Ed dropped her clothes in a pile on the floor and stood. Layla got up too, and before Ed knew it she had pulled his shirt up and over his head. She gazed at the lion tattoo on his chest before kissing its nose, working her way down to the waist of his jeans. Ed closed his eyes as she unzipped them and pulled them down this hips to the floor. He stepped out of them, his groin right in front of her face now. Layla looked up at him through her eyelashes as she pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock through his clingy boxers. Ed took a sharp breath as she pulled them over his hips and down. His erection thumped against his belly. Layla took it in her hand and began to slowly move back and forth. Ed groaned as she placed kisses on the dusky pink head, silently praying she would do something more to him. Suddenly the kisses got more open-mouthed, and then she opened wide enough for the head of his cock to slide easily into her mouth. Ed tangled his fist into her hair, watching as she took in more of him. Without warning he moved his hips forward so his cock pushed against the back of her throat. Layla kept sucking hard. Ed was getting closer to the edge when he made a decision. "Layla, baby, stop." He said. Layla looked up at him, his length still in her mouth. He moved his hips back so he slowly slid out of her mouth. Layla gazed up at him innocently through her eyelashes. He stroked her hair softly. "I want you." He whispered. Layla blushed and looked down at the floor. Ed tilted her chin up so she was looking up at him. "Stand up." He said. Layla got to her feet and without warning Ed, picked her up in his arms and placed her on the bed. She sat against the pillows, watching him as he climbed in bed next to her. Ed reached behind her and unclasped her bra, and her breasts tumbled out. He tossed her bra onto the floor before cupping her breasts in his hands, squeezing gently. He could see faded stretch marks where they had grown quickly, and leaned down and kissed them. Layla shivered. Ed looked up. "You okay?" He asked. Layla nodded. Ed smiled at her, pulling her hips so she was laying under him. He braced himself against the headboard, lining himself up with her entrance. Layla reached under his arms and placed her hands on his shoulderblades. Ed gave her a smile and placed his head in the juncture of her neck as he pushed into her with a small groan. Layla whimpered and Ed pulled his head back to look into her eyes. "You okay, love?" He asked quietly. Layla nodded. Ed smiled at her, placing a kiss on her jawbone as he started thrusting in and out of her. She was tight, and he was big, so he had to let her adjust for a moment before he started getting excited and sped up. Layla moaned, wriggling and pushing her hips up to meet his. Ed had never seen anything so beautiful. A sheen of sweat was on both their foreheads; Layla could feel it under her palms on Ed's shoulders too. Ed whispered curses and sweet things in her ear as he worked her, saying how beautiful and gorgeous and tight she was. She 'mmphed' into his ear every time he pushed into her, deeper and deeper.  
"Harder." She choked out. Ed gladly did what he was told and jerked up into her. He let out a moan and brought her leg up to rest on his shoulder. Some of the scabs on Layla's legs broke and bled, but neither of them cared. Layla's back arched at the new angle, and she let out a guttural moan that might have sent Ed over the edge if he hadn't been trying to prolong the experience.  
Layla felt the tension building in her gut, felt the heat between her legs that had never been there before when something like this happened. Ed could feel his climax coming too, but he wanted Layla to feel good. He moved a hand down between their sweaty bodies and stroked Layla's clit, rubbing messy circles into her slick, soft skin. Layla cried out as she came, turning her head to the side. Ed forced himself to cup her cheek and bring her head around. "Layla. Look at me, baby." He choked out. Layla opened her eyes enough to see his face when he came, his eyes squeezed shut and his lip bitten. She felt the liquid heat inside her, spilling out of her, as Ed's thrusts stuttered and slowed as he rode out his orgasm. He finally collapsed next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close so that she faced him. "You okay, baby?" He asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Layla smiled and shook her head.  
"You couldn't hurt me if you tried, Ed." She said. Ed smiled and snuggled her closer, breathing in the scent of pine and apples and peaches, knowing that the girl he loved was in his bed.


	12. Chapter 12

When Ed woke, Layla was asleep and Stuart was standing on the other side of the room, checking his phone. Ed quickly shifted the covers so that they covered Layla up to her neck. "What're you doing here, mate?" He asked, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. Stuart looked up. "Well, I came to wake you up, and tell you that you smashed it out last night, but when I came up here guess what I found?" He said. Ed shook his head. "You don't understand, Stu." He said. Stuart raised an eyebrow. "Really? I don't understand that you slept with an underage American girl? Do I look that stupid?" He asked. Ed sighed. "I love her, Stu." He whispered. Stuart's eyebrows flew up in shock. "You love her?" He asked. "Have you lost you everloving mind, Ed?! She's fifteen, for fuck's sake! She has scars all over her!" "That are just as beautiful as the rest of her!" Ed exclaimed. They both grew quiet, checking to see if they had woken Layla. When they found that she was asleep they resumed arguing. "She's mentally unstable, Ed. She can't even be around a crowd without trying to scratch her face off! Ed, don't you see? She belongs in a facility where they can take care of her!" Stuart all but shouted. "I can take care of her!" Ed shouted back. Neither of them noticed that Layla was laying there with her eyes wide open, listening to the conversation. "You're not taking her away from me! No one is! I love her, and that's how it is! I'm going to take care of her, Stu!" He said, his voice cracking. Stuart watched as Ed furiously wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Ed, think about it." Stuart said pleadingly. "You're always moving around, mate. You're always in interviews and at hotels. You're always playing shows in front of thousands of people, and Layla can't handle crowds like that. You know that, mate. You remember what happened two days ago. Ed, you don't know what'll set her off. I heard about the paparazzi on the way to lunch. I know she collapsed." "She didn't collapse." Ed corrected. "She just froze up because of the cameras." Stu shook his head in exasperation. "That's not the point, Ed! She needs professional help! She needs a doctor, Ed. She needs a therapist, and a psychiatrist, and support groups, and we can't give that to her. It's not fair to her, Ed. We can try to help her, but if something happens we'll have to put her in a hospital. I'm just saying to be careful, Ed." Stuart said. Ed lowered his gaze to Layla, who quickly closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. "Leave, Stu." Ed hissed. Stuart sighed and slammed out of the room. Layla immediately sat up. "Please don't put me in a hospital, Ed. Please. I don't want to go, I don't want to. They'll give me shots and make me take pills and have a roommate, and I can't have a roommate, Ed. And they won't let me go outside, and I like being outside, I really do. And the food's terrible, and there are boys there, and-" Ed pulled her to his chest as she started to cry. He rocked her slowly back and forth, rubbing her back. "Shh, baby. Come on, it's okay. I won't let anything like that happen to you, Layla, okay? Everything's going to be alright. As long as I can help it, you won't ever go to a hospital." He whispered to her. Layla looked up at him through her eyelashes. He thought she was beautiful even when she was crying, even when her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were red behind the scars. Even when her eyelashes were matted together and her nose was pink, or her hair was wet and stringy from tears. "Do you promise?" She whispered. Ed kissed her cheeks and wiped the tears away. "Of course I promise, baby. Now come on, let's get in the shower. We have a show in Tampa today." He said. Layla nodded and rolled out of bed. Ed followed her into the bathroom and placed some towels on the sink. Layla hissed as she stepped onto the cold shower floor, and Ed chuckled, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to turn on the water as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Layla let out a sigh as the warm water hit her. Ed grabbed the bottle of body wash and slathered his hands with it before putting them to work on Layla's body, gently rubbing the suds onto her skin and into the crevices of her scars. He was as soft as he could with her, but she still bit her lip when he rubbed her legs and arms, tears welling in her eyes at the unexpected pain. Ed sympathized with her. "I know it hurts, baby. I know." He murmured to her as he rubbed soap down her calves. Layla gave a pained smile when he rubbed her cheeks with suds, and Ed kissed her on the nose and between her eyes. "You okay, love?" He asked. Layla smiled and nodded. Ed wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to him possessively. "Mmh. Mine." He said in her ear, nipping it playfully. Layla's smile grew bigger and she huffed a quiet laugh. Ed smiled into her neck and kissed it gently. Layla tilted her head to the side to give him more room. Ed's thumbs made circles on her hips. She shivered at the gentle touch. Ed rubbed his hands up and down her arms and placed them around his neck. He moved his hands to her hips and swayed back and forth from foot to foot. Layla smiled at him, the gap between her teeth flashing. Ed cupped her cheek and brought her face to his. They were both good kissers, but Layla was skittish about using her tongue, whereas Ed was not. He kissed her in a way that could only be described as 'right'. Slow and hard and sweet, as if there was nothing more important in the world than doing it right. His hands came to rest in her hair, which was coarse and tangled. He pulled away unexpectedly. Layla's brows furrowed in confusion. Ed reached around the shower curtain and his hand came back holding a hairbrush. He grinned evilly. "I have come for your hair." He said, with a dramatic Middle Eastern accent. Layla sighed and looked down at the floor as she stepped under the stream of water. The water took a long time to soak through the mats and curls of her thick hair, and when it was good and wet Ed stepped behind her and began to brush out her hair. Layla winced as her hair tugged at her scalp, and Ed made sympathetic noises in the back of his throat. "Just have to get these knots out, love." He said. Layla nodded. Once her hair was untangled, Ed grabbed shampoo and worked it through her hair. Layla closed her eyes and sighed as his fingers massaged her scalp. Ed smiled as he saw the expression on her face and rinsed her hair. Layla turned around to look at him, her eyelashes dripping with water, a small smirk on her face as she watched his erection grow stiff. Ed blushed. "Guess I'm caught, then." He whispered, pulling her against him. Layla reached down between their dripping bodies and stroked him slowly. She watched as he caught his breath and placed his hand over hers to guide her along. She could feel veins and soft skin around a firm core under the rough skin of her palms. "Mmmh." Ed moaned into her neck and squeezed her bottom possessively as she sped up. Layla could feel his climax coming as much as he did. His hands squeezed her ass harder and the muscles in his belly tightened. "Theretherethere." He groaned as he came. Cum mixed with the water running down her arm as he let go, with Ed making breathy "ah, ah!" sounds in the back of his throat. When Ed opened his eyes, Layla was rinsing her hand off under the stream of water still coming from the shower. He saw the gentle curve of her pale neck when she turned to give him a smile, the dips between her shoulder blades when she twisted to stretch her back. He heard the crack of vertebrae snapping into place and shivered as he wrapped his arms around Layla from behind. "You're beautiful, darling." He whispered, and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.


	13. Chapter 13

"'Mere." Ed pulled Layla down beside him on the bus seat. She smiled and tilted her head back to watch the highway roll past the window. Ed twirled a piece of Layla's hair through his fingers. "Your hair's a lot prettier now that it's brushed out and all." He said. He was right. It fell in waves down her back and felt silky in his fingers. Layla sighed when he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her up against him. "You're gorgeous, you know that?" He whispered. Layla stalled, looking down at her bare arms. She wished she hadn't worn a sleeveless shirt. Ed followed her gaze and covered up her arm with his hand. "They're beautiful, too, love." He murmured. Layla shook her head. Ed took her chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilted it round so he could see her face. "You're beautiful. I don't know any other way to tell you. You are gorgeous. So are your scars. So is everything about you. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispered to her, tilting her face to his to give her a kiss on the lips. Layla pulled away. Ed looked at her, confused. "I'm not beautiful, Ed." She whispered. "I'm not even close." Her hair fell in her face so Ed couldn't see her, but he could see the tears that dripped onto her jeans. He brushed her hair behind her ear and wiped away her tears with the backs of his fingertips. Layla tried to pull her head away, but she was caught between Ed and the bus window. "Hush, it's okay." Ed whispered. Layla shook her head and banged the side of her face against the window. Ed tried to grab her shoulders to stop her, but she shook him off and kept hitting her head against the side of the bus. Ed seized her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap with her arms pinned at her sides. Layla flailed around with her legs, kicking and screaming. "Jamie!" Ed shouted. "Need a little help!" Jamie came rushing up the aisle. "Sit on her legs for me, kay?" Ed shouted over the sound of Layla's screaming. Jamie looked alarmed. "Won't that hurt her?" He asked. Ed shook his head. "I don't know, but I don't think we have a choice." He yelled. Jamie quickly moved into the seat across the aisle and sat down on Layla's legs. Layla screamed louder. Jamie was just light enough that it didn't hurt much but just heavy enough for her not to be able to kick him off. Layla whipped her head around in every direction, trying to hit Ed with it and bite him, but he hid his face behind her shoulder and she couldn't reach him. She eventually stopped fighting and just hung her head and cried. Ed kept one arm tight around her, but with the other he wiped the tears off her face with the sleeve of his hoodie. "'S alright, love." He whispered. Layla shook her head and tilted it away from him. Jamie could see the scars on her cheek glistening from tears. Ed moved by the window so Layla had her head in his lap. "Me and Jamie are going to let you go now, love." He whispered, and nodded at Jamie, who got off her legs and sat on the seat by the window. Ed let go of her arms and she turned over so her face was buried in Ed's stomach. His hoodie muffled her sobs and he sat her on his lap so her face was nuzzled in the crook of his shoulder. "You're alright, Layla. It's okay." He whispered, tucking a strand of silky black hair behind her ear. "Remember something for me, 'kay?" He asked. Layla took a shaky breath and nodded. Ed kissed her, hard and slow and deep. When he broke away, she followed him. He looked her straight in the eyes. "You're beautiful." He whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

Following the example of the first night, Ed took Layla into the hotel through the back so she wouldn't be upset by the crowds. When they got to their room, Ed made a nest for her on one of the beds and got her sufficiently cuddled up with her notebook before pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth and leaving quietly.  
With a sigh, Layla grabbed a pen from the nightstand and began to write.  
She wrote.  
And erased.  
And wrote.  
She wrote all through Ed's practice. She wrote through the soundcheck. When Ed was getting ready to walk onstage and hear thousands of people scream his name, she was writing. She wrote and erased through the entire set. She wrote through the intermission. She was writing and erasing when Ed had toweled himself off after the encore and was ready to pack up his gear and come back to the hotel. She was writing when he came through the door.  
He was struck immediately by how beautiful she looked. The bones in the back of her hand moved and twitched. She was biting her lip so tightly that the scars on that cheek had turned white. Her hair had fallen into her face, and she seemed too busy to pull it back. Her eyes had a light in them he had never seen before, crazed and shining like the eyes of a maniac. She only looked up when he dropped his rucksack on the ground with a small thud.  
"Someone's been busy." He said with a smirk. Layla looked from him to the notebook and back, as if realizing that it was there for the first time. Ed's brow furrowed. "You okay, love?" He asked. Layla nodded. Ed smiled at her and kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt and pants, cuddling with her in the nest he had made out of sheets and the duvet. He tugged at the waistband of her jeans. "Off." He whined. Layla smiled and shimmied out of her pants, laying against him with his arms wrapped around her. Ed looked down at her and smiled. "I love you." He whispered. Layla froze. It was like a switch had gone off. Ed sat up. "Layla?" He questioned, stroking her arm. She turned round on him.  
"Why do you love me?" She asked in a hoarse whisper. Ed smiled.  
"Because I do." He said with a shrug, moving as if to pull her closer. Layla pulled away.  
"You shouldn't." She said. Ed pulled her against him, a bit roughly, but he couldn't help it. The thought of her thinking she shouldn't be loved killed him on the inside.  
"Don't you ever say that." He whispered. "I should love you, and I do. I'm in love with your scars, and your skin, and your smell, and your taste. I'm in love with the way you looked at me last night. I'm in love with the way you never think you're good enough, even though you're better than I could have ever imagined. I love you, Layla." He whispered, his voice cracking. Layla turned to see the tears in his eyes and her heart broke. Ed waited, and waited, and finally she said it.  
"I love you too." She whispered.


	15. Chapter 15

When Ed woke, Layla was sitting next to him in bed, holding her notebook. Ed yawned and sat up, too.  
"'Tcha doing, love?" He asked. Layla smiled.  
"I'm writing something for you." She answered. Ed raised his eyebrows and smirked playfully.  
"Oh, really? Would it happen to be a love letter?" He asked, trying to peer over the edge of the notebook. Layla flipped the cover shut.  
"You can read it on the bus." She whispered. Ed held up his hands in surrender.  
"Alright." He said, pulling her down so she laid half on top of him. "But for now we're going to lay here and chill, because we have two days until the next show." He slipped his hand up her shirt and rubbed her back slowly. Layla sighed with her head against his chest, breathing in the faint smell of citrus and Old Spice before closing her eyes and drifting off back to sleep. Ed smiled as he looked down at her, brushing her hair back from her face. Her eyebrows twitched closer together in her sleep, which made Ed want to laugh. But he didn't, because she looked so perfect sleeping and he didn't want to wake her up. He sang to her in her sleep.  
"Kiss me like you wanna be loved.  
You wanna be loved.  
You wanna be loved.  
This feels like falling in love.  
Falling in love.  
We're falling in love."  
Layla's mouth twitched into a half-smile, as if she could hear him.  
There was a knocking on the door.  
"Come in." Ed said quietly. Stuart came inside. Ed covered up Layla's lower half with the duvet. Stuart rolled his eyes.  
"Don't tell me you've been at it again." He whispered. Ed shook his head.  
"No. Can't two people in love with each other just lay in their underwear in peace?" He asked, looking at the ceiling. Stuart shook his head.  
"So she loves you, too, then?" He asked. Ed smiled.  
"Yep. She does." He said proudly. Stu shook his head, but he was smiling.   
"I'm happy for you, mate. But we've got to go in fifteen. Have her up by then." He said, and left quietly. Ed looked down at Layla. She was beautiful when she was asleep. He smiled. He felt lucky to have her. Ed gently shook her shoulder to wake her up.  
"C'mon, love." He whispered. Layla twitched in her sleep but didn't wake up. Ed huffed a laugh and lid himself out from under her to Put on a t-shirt and some jeans. He pondered what he would do with Layla. If she wasn't going to wake up, he'd just have to dress her. He went over to his suitcase and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. Gently, so as not to wake her up, he pulled first one leg and then the other into the leg holes. He wrestled them over her hips, but she didn't wake up then, either. Ed wondered if she had stayed up all night writing. He remembered falling asleep before her. He picked Layla up and gently threw her over his shoulder. Ed wandered into the hallway and knocked on Stuart's door. When it opened, Stuart looked at Ed, amused.  
"Is that how it is, then?" He asked. Ed nodded gravely.  
"Mind getting my stuff for me, mate?" He asked hopefully. Stuart smiled and nodded. Ed got to the bus just as it was starting up. They had switched his bus out for another one, one with a bed. Ed carefully laid Layla down on it. Stuart came in a few minutes later with his suitcase and the notebook.  
"Thought this might be important." He said, tossing it at Ed. Ed caught it and held two thumbs up.  
"Nice job, mate." He said, and Stuart left them in peace.


	16. Chapter 16

Ed opened the notebook to the first page as the bus began to move. The writing was neat and tidy, although some of the words had been crossed out. He began to read.

 

_When I was five, I was free._

_No father to hurt me._

_No photographers to pose me._

_The world was a better place when I was five._

_When I was six, me and mom got in a car._

_It was a nice car, and it was blue._

_My dress was red, and my shoes were black._

_Mom wore her faded jeans._

_We were on our way to church._

_We made it half way there before the truck hit us._

_The truck was big, and it was black._

_It was going too fast, and it hit mom's side._

_Mom held me back with her arm, because I was sitting up front._

_I wasn't supposed to be up front._

_The truck kept moving after it hit us._

_Our car tipped, and tipped, and fell on its side._

_The truck kept moving._

_Our car admitted defeat and rolled on its back._

_Everything went dark._

_When I woke up, I had glass in my hair._

_I looked over at mom, and her hair was hanging._

_It hung toward where the windshield would have been._

_Her eyes were closed, and there was blood on her face._

_She was dead, but her arm was caught under my seat belt._

_It was like she was still holding me back._

_I could see feet walking around the car._

_There were all kinds of feet._

_Heavy black work boots._

_Ballet flats._

_Sneakers._

_Then there was a face looking in my window._

_It was a man with blue eyes._

_He looked surprised to see me._

_"There's a kid here!" He shouted._

_Feet rushed to my side of the car._

_A long metal bar hooked in the door and pulled it off._

_The man with blue eyes was on his knees._

_"Just stay still." He said._

_He cut through my seat belt with some scissors._

_I fell onto the shattered windshield._

_Glass cut my legs._

_I screamed, and the man with blue eyes pulled me away._

_"Get my mom, too." I said._

_The man with blue eyes looked sad._

_He put me in the back of an ambulance._

_I started to cry, because there was still glass stuck in my leg._

_A woman in a uniform hopped into the back of the ambulance._

_"Hello, sweetheart." She said._

_I pointed down._

_"There's glass in my leg." I said._

_She nodded. "Let me get it out."_

_She grabbed some tweezers and knelt down._

_"This will hurt." She said._

_She pulled pieces of glass out of my legs._

_It was more than I thought._

_Fifty-three pieces._

_It felt like a hundred._

_The nice lady wrapped bandages around my leg._

_"All better." She said._

_I looked down._

_My legs looked like I was wearing long white socks._

_I looked out the door of the ambulance._

_People were putting my mom in a long black bag._

_"Don't let them do that." I said._

_"She can't breathe."_

_The nice lady looked up at me._

_"Your mom is special now. She doesn't need to breathe."_

_I started crying again._

_I knew that only dead people didn't breathe._

_The nice lady gave me a hug._

_Another nice lady jumped in the ambulance._

_They closed the doors._

_Before the doors my view was blocked, I saw a man zip my mom inside the black bag._


End file.
